Summer Secrets - Barbara Freethy [21]
As a grown woman, she realized that Daddy hadn't known best for a very long time, and somewhere along the way their roles had reversed. Duncan had become the child, and she had become the parent. It was not the role she craved. And she couldn't help but wish for the impossible, that he would wake up one day and be the father she craved, the kind of man who would listen and advise, who would laugh with her and come to her bookstore and tell her he was proud of her. But he had never been that kind of father. Proud of her, yes, but only when it came to sailing. The rest of her life -- her interests, her emotions, her ambitions -- had never been of concern to him. If it didn't touch his life, he just didn't care that much.
Sometimes she hated him for not caring. But most of the time she loved him. He was her father, and she could still hear her mother's voice in her head: Your father is the most special man in the world. You are a very lucky little girl.
Maybe she just hadn't figured out the special part yet. She sighed, as she took the blanket into the laundry room and tossed it in the pile to be washed. As for lucky, well, she could use a little luck, right now, because she had a feeling her father was the least of her problems. No doubt that reporter would be waiting for her when she got to the bookstore. And she needed to figure out how to handle him.
As she returned to the kitchen, her eye caught on the laptop computer on the counter. She hadn't had a chance to look last night, but maybe she should make the time now.
Taking the computer over to the kitchen table, she got it started, then poured herself a cup of coffee. When she was logged on to the Internet, she quickly did a search on the name Tyler Jamison. If he was a reporter, he'd no doubt published some stories somewhere, and she was more than a little curious as to where.
The answer wasn't long in coming, but it was long in detail. The results jumped out at her.
Tyler Jamison reporting from Somalia for Time magazine ...
An in-depth look at India's Kashmir region by Tyler Jamison ...
Japan's new royalty, Tyler Jamison, U.S. News and World Report ...
Kate's jaw dropped farther with each entry. It couldn't be the same man. A foreign correspondent, a man who covered war, whose words had been printed in every national magazine -- that kind of reporter didn't write about sailboat races in Puget Sound. Something was definitely wrong.
Either Tyler Jamison wasn't really Tyler Jamison, or he'd come to Castleton for another reason.
Maybe there was a photograph of him somewhere, she thought, hastily clicking on each of the entries and scanning the articles for a picture. She had barely started when the doorbell rang. Her nerves tensed as she went to answer it, suspecting the worst, and her instincts were right on the money.
Tyler Jamison wore jeans and a short-sleeved polo shirt. His eyes didn't look nearly as tired as they had the day before, and he'd obviously showered only a short time earlier, as his dark hair was still damp and there was a glow to his cleanly shaven face. Or maybe it was just the glow that came from his eyes. He really had incredible eyes, a much darker blue than her own. They reminded her of the deep waters of the ocean. She just hoped he wouldn't prove as dangerous or as deadly as the sea.
"Good morning. Can I interest you in some bagels?" He held out the white paper bag in his hand. "I don't know about you, but I always think better on a full stomach."
"Were you hoping to bribe me with food?"
"Did it work?"
"Come in," she said, waving him in. "How did you find me?"
"The island isn't that big, Kate, and everyone knows you. You don't mind if I call you Kate, do you?"
"Would it matter?"
He smiled in reply. "Are you ready for your interview? You did tell me we could talk today."
"I said